


Every Step You Take

by sweetbutterbliss



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dancing, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Miscommunication, Pining, The Jungle (Teen Wolf), deputy!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 05:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2954339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetbutterbliss/pseuds/sweetbutterbliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Fine, gimme the fucking thing," he holds his hand out and sighs dramatically.</p>
<p>Derek grins, all teeth and rips the ticket off with a jerk, placing it in Stiles' hand. His thumb brushes Stiles' wrist and Stiles suppresses a shiver, forcing himself to continue glaring.  He watches Derek walk back to the squad car and can see Boyd shaking his head with a smile.</p>
<p>He'd maybe file a complaint if it weren't for the fact that he knows his Dad's password, and can get himself out of most of his tickets. And also because the way Derek fills out that uniform. He'd probably actually pay all the fines just for the pleasure of seeing that everyday, because <i>damn.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Step You Take

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by [Heather.](http://archiveofourown.org/users/HTH31)
> 
> From the tumblr prompt from anon: Hello could you please write a story for this prompt. Stiles is starting to think that Beacon Hills only has one officer because whenever Stiles is in trouble Deputy Derek Hale is there straight away. Derek is starting to think his mate is a trouble magnet and if he manages to scares away every guy that even looks at Stiles with interest that's just an added bonus really. Thank you.

"Oh surprise, surprise. If it isn't Deputy Hale," Stiles rolls his eyes and grips the steering wheel tighter. "What did I do now? Again."

"You rolled through that stop sign," Derek doesn't even look at him, just busies himself writing out the ticket.

"I did not! What the hell's wrong with you, sourwolf? I know we haven't had any big bads around here lately, so is this just boredom? I'm pretty sure my Dad didn't give you a job just to harass me. Or did he?!"

Derek looks over his aviators and just stares until Stiles stops talking.

"Fine, gimme the fucking thing," he holds his hand out and sighs dramatically.

Derek grins, all teeth and rips the ticket off with a jerk, placing it in Stiles' hand. His thumb brushes Stiles' wrist and Stiles suppresses a shiver, forcing himself to continue glaring. He watches Derek walk back to the squad car and can see Boyd shaking his head with a smile.

He'd maybe file a complaint if it weren't for the fact that he knows his Dad's password, and can get himself out of most of his tickets. And also because the way Derek fills out that uniform. He'd probably actually pay all the fines just for the pleasure of seeing that everyday, because _damn._

He sighs and thumps his head against the steering wheel. He has a massive crush on the guy who's making his life miserable. Maybe he has a kink; Lydia had been pretty awful to him too. 

He puts the jeep back into gear and pulls out slowly, stopping at the next stop sign until the person behind him honks. He can only erase his record so many times before his Dad gets suspicious.

***

"Son, can you explain to me why you have three speeding tickets within three days?"

"Umm. Who wants pizza for dinner?!"

Stiles can see his Dad's warring expression; good parenting or the usually-forbidden pizza?

"You can get a meatza, but you have to at least add mushrooms or something."

Dad squints, he has a face made for suspicious exasperation. It's a good look on him. Or maybe it's just well practiced from 22 years of raising Stiles.

"Why do all of them say they were issued by 'Deputy Sweetcheeks' and the fine is '100 kisses.'"

"Dad, why would I know? Your deputies obviously have issues," Stiles tries his best not to laugh at his obvious genius. 

"Alright. But I'm changing my password. Again. And we're still having pizza. No mushrooms."

Stiles opens his mouth to protest, but decides not to press his luck. It's not like he won't be able to figure out the new password. It's always some form of 'Claudia' with differing memorable dates at the end.

***

Stiles feels tingly all over and his breath is panting out in harsh gasps. He's laid out in Josh's (previously known as Hot Guy From the Record Store) backseat, his pants undone, and his mouth red and swollen. He can feel the sharp sting of hickies developing on the underside of his neck and he's attempting to ignore the fact that Josh has brought him into the woods to make out, instead of a room with a bed. It's fine, he's not some whiny little romantic or anything.

Not like it matters anyway because the sexy times are abruptly brought to a halt by Derek fucking Hale. He has Josh by the scruff of his neck, before anyone knows what's happening, and looks about one step away from shaking him violently. Josh is frantically trying to hold his pants up and push Derek off him at the same time, looking fearful for his life.

Stiles covers his face and groans. What the fuck is his life? The door beside his head opens and he looks up to see Isaac smirking at him upside down. 

"Come on, man. Put yourself back together." 

"I don't think a scarf is proper Beacon Hills Deputy attire," Stiles mumbles meanly, dragging himself out the car, adjusting his pants as he walks the few feet to the squad car.

Isaac laughs and shrugs. "Scott made it for me. My neck gets cold."

"You're a werewolf."

Isaac ignores him and walks back over to where Derek is berating Josh, who currently looks like a kicked puppy. Stiles sighs heavily and zips up his hoodie, snapping his head up at the sound of an engine and the sight of Josh driving the fuck away. Leaving him behind without even looking back.

Fucker.

"That was my ride, Derek. What did you say to him?!"

Derek doesn't say anything, his teeth grinding together and his eyes flashing blue. 

Isaac leans in and murmurs to him. Derek nods and, without any warning, runs off into the woods.

"What the fuck?!" Stiles shouts at his retreating back.

"Come on. I'll give you a ride home."

Stiles considers not getting in on principle, but it's cold as balls and Isaac will definitely have no problem with leaving him here. So he slumps down in the seat and refuses to speak to Isaac the whole way home.

***

Josh doesn't reply to any of his texts, and on his next visit to the record store he nearly brains himself trying to hide from Stiles behind the counter.

Fucker.

***

The beat of the music thrums through Stiles' body and he can barely see anything through the flashing lights and smoke machine. He's dancing up against a stranger who's broad, dark haired, and has perfect stubble. He's not familiar to Stiles. At all.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees another broad and dark haired not-stranger. He can also see Jordan on the other side of the club and one or two familiar faces from the department. He groans; the day he decides to go get his anonymous grind on is the day they have some undercover sting on Jungle. Or maybe it's just a casual group outing. At a gay bar. Maybe.

He decides he's too drunk to care and that he'll just ignore them. Nothing to do with him. He slings an arm around Tall Dark Stranger's neck, and grinds against him harder. The song changes and he feels a wall of unnatural werewolf heat against his back and he can't hear it, but the body behind him vibrates with a growl. Stiles' partner turns the color of cottage cheese and scrambles backwards, bumping into other dancers on his way.

Stiles knows it's Derek behind him and he sighs, but still leans back against the other man, closing his eyes.

"You're the worst at being undercover."

Derek doesn't say anything, just slides his hand around Stiles' waist slipping it beneath his shirt. His hands slip against Stiles' sweaty skin and make him gasp, his stomach jumping. He reaches behind him and presses a hand to the back of Derek's neck, leaning back further and letting Derek take his weight.

He undulates his hips, his ass rubbing against Derek's crotch. He hears Derek growl this time, right in his ear. Derek tucks his head into Stiles' neck and bites. Stiles tips his neck to the side and moans as Derek sucks, pulling back again to mark a different spot. Their bodies move out of time to the music, lost in their own rhythm. Stiles fists at Derek's hair and turns his head enough to reach Derek's mouth. He's so drunk and the lights are swirling around him, he barely knows what he's doing. Derek's mouth is warm and gentle, he presses one broad palm against Stiles' stomach, pressing him closer, and his other hand dips down into Stiles' jeans, his fingers brushing just the tip of Stiles' hard cock. Stiles gasps and tries to buck forward into the touch, but Derek has him pressed tightly against his own body. He feels helpless and more turned on than he can ever remember being.

Derek slides further in and grips him tightly, all Stiles can do is pant into Derek's mouth and moan. Derek's chest is vibrating with a constant rumble and his breath is hot against Stiles' ear as he whispers encouragement and praise.

Stiles can't make out everything above the music but he hears his name being whispered over and over. He's so close to coming right there on the dance floor when all of a sudden, it's gone. He stumbles back, his back suddenly cold, and whirls around to see Derek's retreating back. His breath stutters and he shoves his hands in his pockets.

Derek has used him as some kind of decoy; part of his undercover thing, a way to blend in. His chest hurts and he squeezes his eyes shut. It's his own fault really, he should have known that there were ulterior motives.

He trudges back out to his jeep and attempts to catch his breath, swiping tears from his eyes. He's too drunk for this so he texts Scott to come and get him. 

While he waits, he sees Jordan and Derek dragging a struggling perp out in handcuffs and shoving him into the back of an unmarked car. Derek shuts the door and stands up straight. He dusts off his hands and scans the parking lot. He spots the jeep and Stiles slides down in his seat until he can't be seen. When he looks again the car is gone and he feels, all of a sudden, very alone and very stupid.

***

The lights whirl in his rear view mirror and Stiles can't stand it anymore. He slams the jeep to a stop and turns off the engine. Before he can think about it, he's out of the jeep and stomping toward the silhouette standing in the glare of headlights.

Derek's mouth is open and he has his hat in his hand.

"What the fuck did I do now? Did I lead you on and use you? Did I make you think something was happening and it wasn't? Just for, what...shits and giggles?!"

Derek doesn't reply, his hands up in placation.

"Did. I. Do. That? Answer me, you fucking miserable asshole," with each word he shoves at Derek, who lets him. He ignores his angry tears and keeps shouting. "No! Wait! That was you! So what did I do then? What made up shit are you gonna ticket me for now, just so you can fuck with me?"

"I didn't."

"You didn't what?" Stiles' throat hurts and he crosses his arms. He moves out of the glare of the lights and stands against Derek's door.

"I wasn't fucking with you."

"Yeah. Okay, big guy," Stiles rolls his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have danced with you. That was unprofessional."

Stiles sighs, he feels heavy and exhausted. "Whatever. Just stop, okay. Please. I don't know why you've decided to mess with me. But no more tickets. I can't handle it anymore."

"If that's what you want," Derek is hunched over, spinning his hat in his hands and staring at his shoes.

"I want to know why," Stiles licks his lips and wishes he didn't sound so small and pathetic.

Derek ticks his mouth to the side, his face miserable, and chews on his bottom lip.

"I just wanted you to pay attention."

"What?!"

Derek winces at the incredulous tone in Stiles' voice.

"I like you. I more than like you, and I thought you weren't interested. So I guess I was just trying to get you to see me," Derek finishes lamely.

"So, we're twelve years old now? Is that what you're telling me? That you're pulling my pigtails?"

Derek shrugs and continues to stare at anywhere but Stiles.

"So what happened at Jungle? What was that?"

"I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself. You were with that guy and I just wanted you. My wolf wanted you. I just stopped thinking. "

"Your wolf?"

Derek nods, somehow looking even more miserable. Stiles steps close enough that they're now sharing the same air, a few more inches and he'd be pressed against Derek's chest.

"You could've just asked me out."

Derek looks up, surprised, and this close, Stiles can see how his cheeks have turned pink. Stiles has a massive crush on the guy who doesn't want to make his life miserable, but is actually the most ridiculous, emotionally constipated moron he's ever met.

"And I would've said yes. Hell yes, actually. There would've been fist pumping and terrible victory dances."

"Yeah?" Derek smiles, stepping closer.

"Yeah. But I guess you'll never get to see that," Stiles turns his face away and shrugs, fighting a smile.

Derek pouts and reaches out to pull Stiles closer, their chests bumping and crushing Derek's hat between them.

"Stiles Stilinski, would you go out with me?"

Stiles laughs and kisses him, the red and blue lights flashing across their face. Derek pulls back a little.

"Where's my dance?"

Stiles pulls Derek back in and does a little shimmy against him, laughing into his mouth.

***

"Hey babe, how was work?"

Stiles beams at his boyfriend, his research project spread out across Derek's coffee table.

"Alright. A little weird."

"Oh? Something we should worry about?" Stiles pulls out his tablet with the bestiary on and starts powering it up.

"No. Nothing like that. Just...everyone in the department is calling me 'Deputy Sweetchecks' and I have no clue why. Even your dad, which let me say, is very uncomfortable," Derek's so intent on explaining his frustration that he doesn't notice Stiles turning red and sputtering.

"Oh wow, that _is_ really weird, but also appropriate. You do have very sweet cheeks. "

Derek turns bright red and Stiles does his best to distract him with his mouth and other fun naked ways.

After, when they're lying on the carpet half naked and sweaty, Derek runs a thumb over Stiles' mouth and kisses him lightly.

"I love you."

Stiles beams, he'll never get tired of hearing that.

**Author's Note:**

> Original posted on [my tumblr. ](http://sweetbutterbliss.tumblr.com/post/106487121145/hello-could-you-please-write-a-story-for-this) Come prompt me if you liked this one!


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